Tuesday, 3 April 2012

There are only four artists I'm interested in. (I'm talking painting, sculpture, etc.) Pablo Picasso is my favourite artist (and hero). Then there's Marcel Duchamp, because he was so revolutionary. Then Damien Hirst. And then Francis Bacon. I haven't got time for anyone else. No one else has the visionary power and the image power of these four guys. (Well, maybe Warhol, but he doesn't really appeal to me.) Hirst has a retrospective opening at the Tate Modern this week, and some people are saying his art isn't worth what it used to be. They even have the gall to criticize his beautiful spot paintings. These people are insane. Firstly, they should concentrate on the art itself, not on its monetary value. (They're probably total philistines.) Secondly, anyone who sells now will have to be really nuts. Hirst's works will go up in value in the long-term. Why? Because he's one of the four greatest artists ever. That's why! Take it from me.

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Just as Duchamp abandoned revolutionary art for chess, I think I may have to abandon revolutionary literature for songwriting. I need to earn a decent living for once in my life, and I want to have some fun. Pop music is fun. Hardly anyone understands or appreciates what I’m doing here on this blog - so how can it be fun? (This isn't a finance blog, and I've never been a finance professional. Did Agatha Christie murder people? Was she a detective? No. So piss off!) Most of the time it's bloody painful dragging these words out of my consciousness.

I don't know. Rather than stop altogether, I'll probably slow down. If I wrote one great post every month (over the next thirty or forty years - ?) ...